Surrealism
by Servena
Summary: There were reasons they didn't sleep on the couch. A lot of them involved Parker.


**Surrealism**

Parker peered over Eliot's shoulder and wrinkled her nose. "Uh, that look's nasty."

"Looks worse than it is", he said and kept wrapping the bandage around the deep cut in his right arm.

"Does that hurt?" She had already outstretched her finger to poke at it, but drew her hand back when he shot her a glare. "Don't you dare."

She held her hands up. "Okay, okay." She watched curiously as he knotted the ends of the bandage. "Is that gonna be a scar?"

He shrugged. "Probably."

"Hm." She inched closer on the couch. "How many do you have?"

He looked slightly irritated. "Don't know, never counted them."

She grinned. "Well, at least you're gonna have to show something of at your next scar comparison contest with that ex-mossad girl, what was her name?"

"Mikel Dayan. And it wasn't a contest", he said, but there was a slight grin on his face.

That grin was replaced by another glare when Hardison entered. The hacker looked nervous. "Do you need more bandage, cause I can totally get you some -"

"Better get out before I strangle you with one of your LAN-cables", Eliot growled.

Hardison gulped. "Listen, I'm sorry, but there wasn't really a red mobster warning flag on these guys, yeah? I'm working on a very tight schedule here and -"

"Yeah, we all do", Eliot interrupted him. "And you shouldn't need a red flag, I could see they were mob from a mile away!"

"Yeah, not everyone can do that", Hardison mumbled under his breath. Meanwhile, Parker started picking at the white bandage. "Don't you think that looks pretty boring?", she said.

"It's not a fashionshow, Parker."

"But -"

"Come on, Parker, leave the man some space." Hardison pulled the hesitating Parker of the sofa. "We better leave you alone."

Eliot started to put away the medical items into the first-aid kit. "Better do that."

Already standing in the door, Hardison hesitated for another moment. "You gonna be okay, man, right?"

"It was only a butterfly knife, so yeah."

"Okay. Just to make sure."

"Parker? I really think this is a bad idea."

"Come on. People do this when someone got hurt, right? To make them fel better." She peeked around the corner of the hallway.

"Yeah. Normal people. We don't do that." His gaze fell on the differently coloured markers in her hand. "Where did you get these anyway?"

"Out of Nate's desk. He locked the drawer, isn't he cute?"

"You stole from Nate?", he asked a bit exasperated.

She gave him her most innocent look. "It's not stealing when I put it back, right?"

Hardison sighed. "Yeah, anyway, I really think we shouldn't -" Then he realized she was already out the door. He rolled his eyes in despair. "He's so gonna kill us", he mumbled as he followed her.

When he entered the living room, Parker stood behind the couch and looked down on something. He stepped closer and she pressed a finger to her lips. "Shh! He's asleep."

"Guess fighting mobsters is exhausting", Hardison mumbled. "Alright, listen, we're gonna be responsible now and just – what are you doing?"

She had already tiptoed around the couch and now cowered besides Eliot, looking down on the white bandage with the pink marker opened. "Parker!", he hissed.

She looked at him with a bit of a pout. "It's really ugly that way. Besides, he should know we care about him. I don't like it when he gets hurt."

"I'm pretty sure he knows that – oh whatever, you're not listening to me, anyway." She had already started to paint something onto the white material that looked somehow like a heart. With the pink marker. "We are so dead."

He sat down onto the armchair and watched with morbid fascination how she painted all sorts of stuff in different colors onto Eliots arm. For someone with such a dangerous job, the hitter surely was sound asleep. He should've known better, Hardison thought. You really didn't wanna sleep when Parker was around.

Parker examined her work and looked up. "Wanna sign?"

"Hell no."

She looked at him with that special sparkling in her eyes and a smile. "Come on."

He groaned. "I'm so gonna regret this. Just to make sure, this was totally your idea!"

Eliot woke up to Nate's voice saying "Guys, what are you doing?"

"Looks a bit like surrealism", he heard Sophie say.

"I think it's pretty." That was Parker. What the hell were they talking about? He shifted and squinted at the bright light of the ceiling lamp.

"He's waking up."

"Oh, great."

When he opened his eyes, the whole team was standing around the couch. He sat up. "What?", he asked irritated.

"Looks like the kids had a bit fun while you were asleep", Nate said. He looked both resigned and slightly amused.

"What are you talking -" He looked around and his gaze fell on the white bandage on his arm – except there wasn't much white left. Instead, there were curls and figures in all colors of the rainbow, a lot of the drawings couldn't even be identified.

"Who was that?" His voice was dangerously calm.

Sophie chuckled silently. "You shouldn't fall asleep on the couch."

Hardison shifted uncomfortably. "Look, I can explain that -"

"Hardison", he growled.

"This wasn't my idea! Parker, tell him that wasn't my idea!"

Parker had sat down on the armrest of the couch and looked very proud of herself. "He helped", she said genereously.

"Hey! Don't pull me into this!"

"I think it's too late for that", Sophie said smiling. "But maybe we could make a picture of it and sell it as modern art."

Eliot threw her a glare. "Not. Funny. - Parker, why the hell are you painting my arm?!"

"I thought that's what you do when someone you care about get's hurt. - Besides, it was kinda fun." She grinned suddenly. It had an impressive disarming effect. Somehow, he just couldn't be angry with her.

Eliot sighed. "Hardison, why didn't you stop her?"

"Hey, how is this my fault, suddenly? She went crazy on you with markers, not me!"

"She's crazy, we all know that, what's your excuse?" Before Hardison could run, Eliot had already grabbed him and pulled him onto the couch.

"No blood on my carpet, please!", they could hear Nate yelling from the background.


End file.
